Violated (6 page)

“Yeah,” Victor said. He scowled, downed the rest of his scotch, and set the glass on the bar a bit harder than necessary. The bartender glanced at him, and Victor nodded to indicate he wanted a refill. “It’ll cost the company more than it’s worth, but Jack wants them integrated, so we’ll fucking integrate them.”

“I’ll work out some training,” Derek volunteered. “We could probably start next month.”

“You do that. In the meantime, I’m gonna lament the fact that my company is going into the shitter.” The bartender swapped Victor’s empty glass for a full one, and Victor took another healthy swig of scotch.

Derek didn’t drink as often—or as much—as Victor did, but it had been two days of tedium and thinly veiled hostility from employees who didn’t want to change the way they’d always done things but knew they’d have to suck it up if they wanted to keep their jobs. Sure, they’d smiled at him and Victor, but the tension had been palpable. He could use a drink or two.

R
USS
LAUGHED
as his five-year-old nephew, Jacob, ran by him waving a sparkler in his small hand—until he heard Shannon shout, “Russ! Are you blind? He’s not supposed to have one of those!”

Oops
.

He darted after Jacob and attempted to snatch the sparkler away from him, but the little… angel… ran off with it, giggling. Russ took off after him, but his nephew was incredibly agile. He zigzagged around the yard, keeping just out of Russ’s reach, until Shannon ducked in and grabbed him by the arm. She wrested the sparkler away from him.

“Daddy said I could have it!” Jacob protested.

Uh-oh
.

“Bill!” Shannon shouted across the yard. “Why the hell did you give him a flaming metal rod to play with?”

Her husband looked up from the grill and shrugged, clearly unconcerned. “It’s just a sparkler. I always had sparklers as a kid.”

So had Russ, but maybe not quite
that
young.

“Did your parents
want
you to get third-degree burns?” Shannon asked. Jacob had already run off to chase Max around the yard again. Fortunately Max was always up for a game of tag and never bit or nipped, even when Jacob grabbed his fur.

Shannon walked back to the deck and Russ tagged along, sipping his beer as he walked. The Fourth of July had been over a week ago, but Bill still had a bunch of leftover fireworks he wanted to shoot off with Russ’s help later. Nothing big—just some bottle rockets and small stuff you could get at any convenience store at this time of year.

“The box said not to give them to kids under five,” Bill said, flipping a burger. “He’s five. I told him he had to keep it away from his face.”

“I don’t care what the damned box says! It’s dangerous.”

“If he touches it and burns himself, he’ll know not to do it next time.”

Shannon groaned and turned to Russ with an imploring look. “Tell him! How many kids a year get hurt with fireworks? You’re a cop—you must know that.”

“Um… a lot?”

“You’re a big help.” She seemed to remember she was still holding the sparkler, so she made a face and waved it around. “Wheee….”

D
EREK
AND
Victor were both trashed by the time they went up to the room. By some miracle they managed to navigate the hotel lobby, operate the elevator, and find the correct room without puking or falling down in the hallway. Derek felt a little queasy and reality was a bit distorted, but he thought he could manage to keep the contents of his stomach down as long as he could find his bed soon. Victor fiddled with the room key while he leaned against the wall, trying to keep his eyes open.

Then they were inside the room, and Derek fell face-first onto his bed. But Victor slapped his foot, still clad in a shoe. “Get undressed, moron.”

Derek groaned and forced himself to sit up. The room swayed around him but eventually settled down. He kicked both shoes off, then fell backward onto the mattress to rest a while. He watched Victor undress and, in his current state, didn’t make much of an effort to hide the fact that he was watching. The man’s muscles rippled like swells in the ocean as he peeled off his shirt and undershirt. It was mesmerizing.

Victor belched loudly, and they both giggled.

“Classy,” Derek said.

“I might have to fart too. Just give me a minute.”

Derek laughed and screwed up his face in disgust. “Take it to the bathroom, you pig.”

“Aw. Now my feelings are hurt.” Victor undid his belt and stepped out of his pants. “Are you planning on sleeping like that?”

“I’m too drunk to undress.”

Victor snorted derisively. “Fuckin’ lightweight. I’m drunk off my ass, but at least I can still stand.”

“Just leave me here to die,” Derek said, closing his eyes. “Tell my mom I loved her.”

“Right after I bone her,” Victor quipped.

“Asshole.”

He opened his eyes again when he felt Victor undoing the buttons on his shirt. It shouldn’t have been a big deal—they were friends, right?—but it felt weird. Sexual. “What are you doing?”

“Gettin’ you outta your clothes, idiot.”

Victor took Derek’s shirt off and yanked his undershirt over his head. Then he undid Derek’s fly. Derek made a halfhearted attempt at blocking him, but Victor slapped his hands away. He’d more or less reconciled himself to Victor pulling his pants off when Victor hooked his fingers in the waistband of his underwear and shucked both down his legs. Before he knew what was happening, Derek was stark naked but for his socks.

“What the fuck?”

Victor giggled again like a drunken idiot and tossed both pants and underwear across the room. “Whoo! Par-
tay
! Derek’s naked!”

“Gimme my fuckin’ clothes back, dickwad!”

Victor shocked him by grabbing his cock and squeezing it. “Chill out, bud. I’ve seen it all before.”

Maybe, but he hadn’t
grabbed
it before. Derek was too startled to react, and before he could find his tongue, Victor had released him and staggered off to the bathroom, muttering something about needing to piss. While he listened to the sound of Victor urinating, Derek tried to get his head together. Was Victor coming on to him? He’d never thought he’d have to worry about something like that happening—not with Mr. Machismo. Derek’s brain rejected the idea. It was ridiculous. Victor was drunk, that was all. His normal wiseass behavior was just amplified by the alcohol.

When Victor came back into the room, Derek realized he’d just been lying there instead of finding a way to cover himself. He was still splayed out like a naked sacrifice on an altar. Even more disturbing, Victor had left his underwear behind in the bathroom.

“What’re you—” Derek began, but his words were cut off by Victor pouncing on him.

Victor still seemed to think the situation was funny. He was laughing as his naked body knocked the wind out of Derek. “How ’bout it, bud? Wanna be my first time?”

“Jesus Christ!” Derek gasped. “Get off me! Aren’t you fucking straight?”

Victor laughed as though he’d said something hilarious and rolled off him. “Calm down. I’m just horsin’ around. You
wish
you could have this up your ass,” he added, grabbing his dick and waving at Derek. It wasn’t completely flaccid.

Was Victor really getting turned on? The idea sent an ice-cold chill up Derek’s spine.

But he forced himself to shrug it off. Victor was just teasing him. That was all. “Fuck! Tim’ll kill me if he hears about you doing that.” He didn’t address the comment about wanting Victor’s cock up his ass. The thought nauseated him. And Derek had no intention of being unfaithful to Tim, no matter whose dick went where.

“What happens in Tampa stays in Tampa,” Victor said and then broke into another drunken giggle fit.

“I need to go to bed, Victor.”

“Sure, honey-bunny,” Victor said, snickering, as he rolled back toward him and threw an arm across his waist.

“I’m serious.” The room was still spinning a bit, and Derek just wanted to close his eyes and drift off. But he couldn’t do that with Victor naked and half on top of him. He could feel Victor’s semierect cock pressing against his hip.

Victor lifted himself up on his hands and knees, but to Derek’s dismay, he didn’t get off the bed. He simply shifted sideways and straddled Derek’s body on all fours. He peered down into Derek’s face and said with a wry smile, “Sure you don’t wanna give little Timmy somethin’ he can
really
be jealous of?”

“I’m sure.”

To his horror, Victor lowered his face and planted a kiss on his lips. Derek twisted his face away, and Victor snickered again. “Your loss, buddy,” he said with a final grope of Derek’s dick—which was growing hard, despite Derek’s attempts to will it down. Then Victor half crawled, half fell out of the bed onto the carpeted floor.

We’re both shitfaced
, Derek told himself.
We’ll think this is funny in the morning
. At least, he hoped so.

Victor was able to stagger to his feet long enough to find the light switch and plunge the room into darkness. Or semidarkness—the blinds were still partially open, and light from the hotel courtyard gave the room a dim reddish hue. Victor stumbled over to his bed and fell into it.

Derek had to piss, but he didn’t trust himself to walk to the bathroom. He somehow managed to peel the blankets down on the bed and worm his way under them. Then he either fell asleep or passed out.

E
VENING
CAME
,
and Russ managed to help Bill fire off a bunch of bottle rockets, sparklers, and roman candles without mishap. Jacob was delighted, and even Shannon grudgingly seemed to enjoy the show. Only poor Max insisted on being let into the house so he could hide under the living room coffee table.

It was a beautiful, warm night, and after Shannon tucked Jacob into bed, she came back outside to sit with Russ and her husband, drinking the remaining beer and gazing at the stars. Max had come out by now to curl up at Russ’s feet, exhausted from a day of hyperactive children, loud explosions, and probably one too many leftover cheeseburgers. The only light on the deck came from citronella candles placed at intervals along the railing, and these filled the air with a pungent odor.

“So…. Rusty’s got a new boyfriend,” Bill told his wife as she settled into her chair. Nobody called Russ “Rusty” except for Shannon—she’d tormented him with it when they were kids—and now, by extension, Bill.

Shannon’s curiosity was piqued immediately. “Do tell!”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Russ said, giving Bill a sour look. “I told you he just bought the cabin. Besides, he’s engaged. I said he was handsome, that’s all.”

“And nice,” Bill added.

“Don’t be a homewrecker, Rusty. It never ends well.”

“Please! Can you see me chasing after somebody else’s boyfriend or husband? It’s not gonna happen.”

“You need to find a nice guy of your own,” Shannon said.

Russ gave up trying to prove he didn’t have his sights set on Derek. “I’ve got my vacation coming up in October,” he said. “At an all-gay bed and breakfast in Vermont.”

“An all-gay bed and breakfast?” Shannon asked skeptically. “They have those?”

“They do. On a farm. It’s called Rabbit Hollow Farm. They have swimming, massage, a weight room”—not that he’d ever lifted weights in his life—“a hot tub, a sauna…. And they take dogs, so I won’t have to kennel Max.”

“Good.”

“
Plus
,” he said, adding the pièce de résistance, “it’s clothing-optional.”

Bill hooted, forgetting his son was asleep inside, and backhanded Russ’s shoulder. “Go, Russ!”

Shannon glared at her husband to quiet him down, then said in a hushed voice, “No way. You? Running around naked?”

Russ had to admit the idea made him a little nervous. But it also turned him on. It wouldn’t hurt him to be a little daring for once. Who knew? Maybe he’d meet some gorgeous guy, spend the weekend fucking like bunnies in the fields—he tried not to think too hard about ticks—and fall madly in love. “Sure,” he said. “Why not?”

“Well, for one thing, it’ll be October.”

True. “Maybe I can run around naked indoors,” Russ said dubiously. “And of course there’s the hot tub and sauna.”

She raised a skeptical eyebrow, but Bill jumped to his defense. “I think it sounds
hot
. At least, you know, for gay guys.”

“Uh-huh,” Shannon said. “Sometimes I wonder about you, Billy.”

He just waggled his eyebrows at her.

They spent a pleasant couple of hours chatting. Despite the ribbing, Russ adored his sister, and Bill was a sweetheart, even if he was a bit of a jackass. Shannon was always after Russ to visit more often, and he found himself accepting an invite to Thanksgiving dinner, though of course that was months away.

Bill caved first, a little after midnight. “I’m gonna crash,” he said, getting up from his lawn chair and stretching. “I can’t keep my eyes open anymore.” He bent to kiss Shannon and then came around to give Russ a hug. “You two stay up and talk about me.”

“I’m going to tell my brother all about our sex life,” Shannon threatened.

“You do that. Eight inches, Russ. Don’t let her tell you any different.”

Shannon rolled her eyes. “Oh,
please
.” But she was laughing, and she watched her husband with affectionate exasperation as he crudely grabbed his crotch and winked at Russ. “How did I marry such a pig?” she asked when Bill had gone inside.

“You love it,” Russ replied. He tipped his beer up to drain the bottle.

“I do. He’s adorable, even if he’s an ass.” She paused to take a ginger ale out of the cooler and then said as she sat back into her chair, “He doesn’t do that to other guys, you know.”

“Hug them?”

“Yes.”

“I know. A lot of straight guys do that with their gay male friends.”

“Trying to prove they’re cool?”

Russ shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe they like the fact that here’s a guy they can get a little closer to without him feeling uncomfortable. One of my coworkers does it sometimes. Marty Johnson used to do it too.”